


The Star Warriors' Sacrifices

by Otaku553



Category: Kirby - All Media Types
Genre: But can be read as normal, Gen, Human AU, Star Warriors (Right Back At Ya)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-26
Updated: 2019-04-26
Packaged: 2020-02-04 11:54:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18604024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otaku553/pseuds/Otaku553
Summary: Meta Knight was a Star Warrior. Jecra and Garlude too. Pulled by the strings of fate, ordained to die as martyrs. Kirby was one too. He just didn't know yet.





	The Star Warriors' Sacrifices

The day was average, seemingly insignificant. It was warm, but not hot. Breezy, but not windy. The sun peeked out behind fluffy clouds painted across a pale blue canvas, and for the town of Dreamland, it was just another day. The Cappy children were out and about, kicking around a ball. The great tree, Whispy Woods, dropped ripe apples on the forest’s ground.

It left Kirby with a certain sense of foreboding.

Kirby, a small child with pink hair and blue eyes that shone like the sky, stared up at the sky. A small orange butterfly flitted around his nose. This tranquility. This peace. It never lasted long. Kirby half-expected a cloud of black indescribable matter to creep against the horizon, some large growling spacecraft to descend from the skies. Some gargantuan undefeatable enemy always approached on days such as these, when everyone thought it was least likely, when the butterflies came out to play with the children and the wispy clouds curled into cotton-like swirls. It was for this reason, and also just because the sky held some sort of inexplicable allure to Kirby, that the boy’s bright blue gaze attentively focused on the vast expanse of blue marred with wisps of white. He was still looking for disturbances though, so while to many it seemed like he was daydreaming, he was in fact very aware of his surroundings.

The little star on his zipper,  that glowed with calm golden light, was pulsing ever so slightly, ready to come out on a moment’s notice. The _ Warp Star _ . It was an odd little thing that select few people seemed to own. They were vehicles, made of a certain alloy that could expand and contract in short times, seemingly ignoring the laws of physics. They were unnatural in how perfect they were, always polished to shine even without maintenance. Yet nobody knew of their origins; they simply appeared. All attempts to recreate them had failed. Kirby was lucky to have one; it had been with him for as long as he could remember. As long as he willed it to, it would expand, let him climb on it, and fly, assisting him in his endeavors whether it be travel or extra speed in battle.

Last time, it had been used against the World Destroyer Void Termina, and the Mages of Jambastion. Before that, it had been the industrializing Haltmann Corps, and their robotic soldiers. Even before, there were Nightmare, Zero, Dark Matter, Sectonia. From the earliest time Kirby could remember, he had always been the one defeating these, saving the village, saving Dreamland, saving Planet Popu and he knew, the cycle repeated. Once again, the few years of peace had passed, and it was prime time for another enemy to appear before him, to be inevitably defeated by him. If they so much as threatened his friends, he would be smash it in the face. Some might call this arrogant. Kirby called it fact. It was hard to kill him when he held one of the universe’s rarest and most powerful powers of copying abilities at the drop of a dime.

Even his mentor, Meta Knight had said so. The wise warrior beyond his apparent age had trained him as early as he could remember. To fight, to use his skills, to survive and return to his friends, his ragtag group of a found family. Fumu, he knew, would never let him live it up if he didn’t. Kirby didn’t question the logic behind that.

Meta Knight was calling now. His glowing yellow eyes always seemed half lidded by the full-faced mask he wore, giving him the appearance of a no-nonsense person, which he absolutely was. You wouldn’t once see him outside his bedroom without his armor impeccably polished and reflecting light, without his cape properly ironed and billowing in the breeze. And reportedly, not a single person outside his close circle had seen him without his round metal mask, with four small spikes protruding from the top. It was simple, refined. It suited the knight perfectly.

Kirby stood from his usual resting spot underneath the tree. The orange butterfly that rested upon his nose fluttered away. 

Meta had said the day before that he would show the child something, with a voice that held hesitation, but was dignified and serious. And so the pink-haired child followed the blue-haired knight through cave, forest, hill, and plain, until the two reached a cliff. A cliff overlooking the ocean, unrare on the small Planet Popu that was half water, but holding some kind of mystical air about it. The waves crashing on the shore were calming, the seagulls’ cries in harmony with them. They hovered above, but didn’t dare land on the two polished star-shaped stones inlaid in the ground.

_ Jecra, 9421-9496 _ was embossed in the one on the left.  _ Garlude, 9401-9502 _ on the other. Meta Knight knelt on the ground before these two, and closed his eyes, running his hand over their names. The words went unsaid, but Kirby knew what they were. Kirby had met Knuckle Joe, son of the warrior Jecra, and Sirica, daughter of the warrior Garlude. The grave markers, they marked the sacrifices and honors of Meta’s once closest friends, who had died in the line of battle.

Jecra and Garlude were brave people, Kirby couldn’t help but think. He wouldn’t go into battle like them so willingly, ready to lay down his life for the sake of the universe. It was because he had the utmost confidence in his powers and the support of his friends that he had found the courage to face the foes that threatened the peace of Dreamland.

Meta Knight gestured for Kirby to sit next to him, his usual yellow eyes dimmed to a darker purple. . The child complied silently. Something told him that in the presence of these graves, he should take everything more seriously, with more tact and manners than he usually had as a child. He looked over to his mentor, whose yellow eyes looked soft, fond, but also tempered with underlying and never-fading sadness.

“Kirby, do you know of the Star Warriors?”

The question was sudden, and broke Kirby from a trance he didn’t realize he was in. “I’ve heard of them,” Kirby replied. Bun, another child on Planet Popu was always gushing praise about them, admiring them. “They’re the army that fights universal threats, right?”

Meta Knight nodded. “Something… like that.” A silence followed, punctuated by more crashing waves and crying gulls. “Do you know how they—we became a part of them?”

Kirby didn’t. Meta seemed to take the silence as denial and continued. “We are foreordained by the stars for the duty and honor. We have a natural predilection towards gentleness but with courage and ferocity in moments it is needed. Until the day we are called, we look at the skies and the stars, with a purpose unfulfilled in our minds that we feel but are unaware of.

“And when the time comes, and we are actually called, we are bestowed with that which we can use to explore the stars, to leave our small planet and explore the vast uncharted. A Warp Star.”

Surprise flashed in the boy’s blue eyes. He opened his mouth, about to ask a question, but Meta Knight, eyes downturned towards the graves, continued regardless. “We still don’t know how they came to be. The just come into existence when a Star Warrior becomes of age.”

Kirby realized. The words sounded too level, too artificially calm. Meta Knight had prepared for this, and Kirby wasn’t to interrupt. Thankfully, what would’ve been his question was addressed. “Your circumstances are unusual. You found your Warp Star early, when you were still an infant. Your Star was probably underdeveloped, unable to make the trip to the main sanctuary, where most awakened warriors go. So your star decided the next best thing, and crashed you on the nearest peaceful planet it could find.”

Meta Knight finally looked up. “The fact that you can control your Warp Star with ease in battle, that you can pilot it masterfully by instinct, all your tendencies to look at the sky. All of these are proof that you’re a Star Warrior, Kirby.”

_ Um… Okay _ . Kirby wasn’t sure how to react. From the way it had been described, it seemed like an honor. He was one of a select few, chosen to be powerful. Yet there was no fanfare, no glory. Meta’s eyes did not change to their usual proud blue or their neutral yellow, instead staying on the solemn purple. What was he supposed to say? That he was glad for the honor? That he would do his best? Kirby continued observing Meta. He seemed hesitant to speak further (despite his mentor consistently wearing a mask, Kirby had become very familiar with Meta Knight’s mannerisms). He didn’t want to say something, from the slight down and leftwards tilt of his head. “What is it?” Kirby pushed.

“Your Warp Star… It’s gold.”

That wasn’t the answer Kirby expected. He raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Warp Star colors are determined by fate.” He withdrew his own silver star from beneath his cloak. “The higher rank the color, the more significant the Warrior’s role is fated to be.”

It took a bit for the implication to sink in. A warrior was chosen to fight. Playing a significant role meant… being key to the defeat of an enemy. It fit. Kirby had been the one to defeat many enemies already. So why was Meta so sad?

Being key to the defeat of an enemy, by design of the fates. Even if it means… sacrificing oneself to help others.

Oh.  _ Oh. _

As soon as he realized it, his eyes widened in horror.

“Do you understand now, Kirby?”

The child took a shaky and slow nod.

“Few Star Warriors live into old age. Even less those with high-rank Warp Stars.” Meta’s head turned to the stone star on the right. “Garlude… she was a bronze star. She died trying to save me in battle. I am a silver star. I’ve lived so many close encounters until now, knowing that my purpose will come, yet escaping death by a hair’s breadth every time. And now that I have met you, the pinnacle of the next generation, I’m certain. My fated role has been to guide you.”

Kirby took a step back. “So— you mean— but, it’s not— It can’t be absolute, can it?” Kirby grasped for the right words. “Meta, you’re alive, aren’t you?”

Meta nodded. “Indeed. But nearly all of my generation has died out already; except for the leading four and the trainers for newer recruits.” His eyes dimmed further, and Kirby could imagine if he had a frown, it deepened. “... It’s not often possible to defy the fates, Kirby.”

Kirby’s head spun. Was it just that the entire time he had been fighting those enemies, rather than his own strength taking them down, he was just a puppet of fate? Was it just an illusion that he would win every single time? Then how soon would his time come? When would he be forced to and end? How much longer did he have before the fates forsook him? Before his mentor left him?

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked Meta, voice unsteady. It would’ve been so much better if he could live in innocence, in his normal naivety, unaware of when his time would come, so that he could die thinking he had done all that he could, instead of all that the fates wanted of him. It would’ve been so much better if he could spend time with his friends, fantasizing about a future he didn’t know he wouldn’t have.  _ Why _ …?

“... The leaders at the main sanctuary have contacted me. Your deeds haven’t gone unnoticed, and now that you are old enough to receive Knightship, they want you to go. If you do, you will be subject to their orders and will fight whatever battles across the universe that they want you to battle. The leaders at the only ones able to read fate and act accordingly. In return, you’ll receive the usual honors of being a Star Warrior,  _ more _ even, with how much you have done. You’ll be bestowed with a mask, our symbol. You’ll be given a second name and a purpose.”

Kirby had to sit down a nearby rock. So this was what his life now amounted to. What about what he wanted to do? What about the purpose he had already discovered on his own? His life, his friends, his family? What use did he have for honor, a mask, and a name if he would die soon afterwards?

He didn’t want to die.

“But,” Meta Knight began. Kirby looked up, a slight flicker of hope in his eyes. “They only want you there willingly. You would be allowed to stay here, if you wished it.”

* * *

“Really?” Kirby looked up, eyes alight with hope, mouth upturned in almost a smile.

It made it all the harder for Meta to do what he did next. “But consider carefully.” Meta hesitated to say anymore. 

It was already clear Kirby was terrified at the prospect of leaving his friends behind and dying as a martyr. He himself didn’t know about it until after multitudes of battles, his fallen comrades piling up in his mind, until he realized that the were all dying, all for the sake of strategies, for the greater good, for the collective win. What drove the nail into the coffin was when Jecra had died, his best friend, who was always smiling and laughing about seeing his son again after the war ended, who died not at the hands of a demon beast. No,  _ worse _ , he had been captured, brainwashed and turned, and pitted against Meta. 

He was angry. He wanted to shout at the fates for taking away his best friends, for keeping him alive in agony only to fulfill his eventual purpose. Of course, now that he had met and trained and taken care of Kirby out of infancy and into near-adolescence, he wouldn’t give up meeting Kirby for the world.

Kirby was unique. He was a pure soul, untouched by the horrors of battle, yet strong and able to defeat ferocious enemies almost individually. Kirby wasn’t doomed to the normal isolation of a Star Warrior, had lived and grown up among children of Dreamland. He had friends. He could  _ make _ friends. Not a single day went by that Meta Knight didn’t ponder just how the child had been able to so easily turn enemies into friends, from Marx to Magolor to Susie. Kirby was just incredible.

And now he was tasked with tearing Kirby away from them, giving him two options when one of the options was just disguised to make it seem like an option. He didn’t want to say anymore, didn’t want to see Kirby’s overwhelming hope crushed, but he had to. Kirby needed to know.

“The system of Star Warriors exists for a reason. When a piece is pushed astray from fate’s plans, results are catastrophic.” Kirby’s small smile turned downwards, and Meta loathed to continue. It was true though, the betrayal of Yamikage had left them resortless for months, during which time countless sacrifices were made. “If you decided to stay here, with just how significant you are to fate’s plans, the universe may very well fall to oncoming threats that choose to avoid Planet Popu.”

Kirby’s hope shattered like glass hit by a bullet of despair.

They just happened to be lucky these times that Planet Popu was always in the path of their enemies, so Kirby would coincidentally be able to defeat them. But what would happen when all the enemies caught wind of the powerful Warrior here? They would avoid it, the rest of the universe would fall at their hands, and with it, Planet Popu and all Kirby knew.

There was no being selfish here. Kirby cared too much about his friends to stay and be with them when he could be out there preventing the planet’s downfall. But if Kirby joined the Star Warriors, he would travel to every known corner of the universe, and inevitably his warmth and innocence and kindness would draw others near. He would have more friends to protect, more reasons to be a Star Warrior, no time to be just Kirby anymore.

It created a vicious cycle, Kirby in the center, as the victim. If the worlds of his friends needed saving, he would go. He couldn’t not.

Meta wished with all his heart that Kirby would choose to be selfish, just this once. Even sworn as a protector of the worlds, he cared so much for the child; he didn’t want to be the one to send Kirby to his inevitable martyrdom. But Kirby was too kind to. He would, without a doubt, abandon his friends to protect them.

The child was on the bench, head turned towards his feet. Meta Knight could almost see the cogs of the child’s mind winding and sputtering and stopping in the face of the dilemma.

And then Kirby stood. His eyes were lit with a new flame of determination, small and easily extinguished, but with the potential to grow to no bounds with the proper stokes. Kirby had made his decision, it seemed, and Meta Knight had been right.

The older Star Warrior sighed, heavier than he had ever done so since arriving in the peaceful town of Dreamland.

\---

“To you, Kirby, esteemed wielder of the Copy Ability and Holder of a golden Warp Star, we hereby dub thee Star Knight, and bestow upon you the title of Star Warrior. Take this mask as a symbol of thy honor, thy strength, thy sacrifice, and rise.”

Blue eyes glowed with determination and youth behind the shadow of a round metallic mask.

They were broken just a smidge.

**Author's Note:**

> Lol our teacher gave us far too much freedom for our fantasy narratives. I ended up writing a fanfiction out of it. Hope you enjoyed.


End file.
